BTBD Challenge 48 - Saints and sinners

[m_findlow]

Title: Saints and sinners
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 3,061 words
Content notes: Written for Challenge 48 - Ceremony at beattheblackdog
Summary: Visitors to Earth send the team on a pilgrimage across Wales

The beeping on the computer caught Gwen off guard. It hadn't made a sound all day, which was something of a relief, just to have one rift-free day. But this beeping wasn't the normal kind. Before she had a chance to investigate it further, Jack was standing behind her, a look of interest on his face.

'What is it?' she asked. 'It doesn't sound like a rift alert.'

'It's not. It's an early warning alarm. We've got incoming.'

'Incoming what?'

'Let's find out.'

 

Jack sent out a signal from his vortex manipulator, hailing the vessel that had pinged on their long range radar. It was only just entering their solar system when the alarm sounded, and was idling past Neptune when Jack's hail reached their ship.

It was a lengthy conversation Jack had with their intergalactic visitors, Teryns, most of which would have been lost in translation, had it not been for their computer systems, which were translating both sides of the conversation for the benefit of Gwen and Ianto, who weren't fluent in Galactic Standard. Even so, a lot of what was said seemed to be in long, confusing riddles and cryptic requests. Jack just nodded carefully, listening to what they had to say, and occasionally interjected with questions or comments of his own. By the end, all Gwen and Ianto really knew was that they'd asked to come here, and Jack had agreed.

 

'What exactly is it that they want?' Ianto asked. 'I got lost when they started referring to rising the fallen, and gracing the soul with light.'

'There was something about shields I didn't understand either,' Gwen said.

Jack sat back, looking at his two colleagues. 'They want to come here to retrieve some relics.'

'What kind of relics?' Ianto asked. 'I could look them up on our archives database.' He'd just finished fully indexing terabytes of meta data that had been collected on their archive records and coded into their systems, and was itching to try it out.

'You won't find it in any database,' Jack replied.

Ianto crossed his arms, trying not to look offended. 'Why not?'

'When I said relics, I meant bones. One of their own who was stranded here. They followed some old scriptures that told of the tales of her travels that eventually lead them here.'

'You're saying she's buried here?' Gwen asked.

'Yup.'

'And they want to take her bones back home?' Ianto added.

'More or less.'

'Do we know where she was buried?' Gwen asked.

'That's the tricky part,' Jack confessed. 'All they have to go on are the records of those who returned to tell tales of her deeds. They're hoping that with a bit of local history research, we might be able to pinpoint the exact location.'

'Okay, shouldn't be too hard, I guess,' Gwen said, staying positive.

 

Once the records from the ship were downloaded, it very quickly became clear that their work was going to be cut out for them.

'I've tried to trace back their calendar against our own,' Ianto said, 'but I must've gotten the math wrong. According to this, we're looking for someone who died somewhere around the third century AD.'

'How the hell are we supposed to find someone buried all the way back then?' Gwen cried.

'It's Roman conquest Wales,' Jack said. 'At least there should be some records. Could've been worse, it could've been the dark ages. There's almost no records of what happened between the sixth century and the Norman invasion.'

'For all the difference it makes,' Ianto muttered. 'Hope your Latin is good.'

 

In the end the task wasn't quite so onerous as they'd first thought. The records from their friends aboard the alien vessel were quite detailed in her life and travels, and spoke of her being a high lady Breton, who was greatly revered as a heroine who shielded her companions from harm, and sacrificed her own life for theirs.

'Sounds like she was a real martyr,' Jack said, reviewing the long list of brave deeds, not just those from her time on Earth, but across other worlds as well.

'What did you do say?' Ianto asked, drowning in old books and papers at his desk.

'I said she sounds like a real martyr.'

'What was her name?'

Jack perused the screen, translating in his head as he read through the details. 'Ursu, it says here.'

'That's it!' Ianto cried. 'Not a martyr, a Saint!'

'Huh?'

Ianto quickly tapped a few keys and brought up a scanned document that looked incredibly old, and all handwritten and inked in Welsh, which had no meaning for Jack, since he'd never bothered to learn anything more than hello and thank you.

Ianto began reading out the key details.

'St Ursula was noted as a Welsh Princess, who was forced to marry a pagan prince to save her father's kingdom. Before she was wed she asked to take one final pilgrimage to Rome, where she was accompanied by 11,000 maidens. On their return from Rome, they passed through the town of Cologne in France, where the city was under attack, and her maidens were brutally murdered by rebels in the city. It's said that she shielded many of them beneath her huge cloak as arrows cut them down. Afterwards, the prince of the rebels was so struck by her radiant beauty that he asked for her hand in marriage. When she refused him for murdering her companions, he shot her through the heart with his own bow and arrow.'

'That's awful,' Gwen said.

'Although it does sound quite a lot like the scriptures,' Jack mused. 'A high lady of  Breton who shielded her companions.'

'And her name was Ursula, which is a lot like Ursu.'

'I think we found our gal,' Jack said, beaming. 'So where was she buried?'

'That's the problem,' Ianto said. 'According to the annals penned by Sir Huw Pennant in the sixteenth century, her remains, and those of the 11,000 maidens were enshrined at the church of St Ursula in Cologne. They were never returned to Wales.'

'Well, these records indicate they are certain she was interred here, not in France,' Jack replied.

'There's always the Church of the Virgins,' Gwen said, reading further. 'It's in Llangwyryfon, and says here it was the church she prayed in until she made her final pilgrimage.'

'Okay,' Ianto said, 'let me make a few calls.'

 

There was a lengthy call with the National Library in Aberystwyth, requesting some obscure records from their collection, then one with the archdiocese in Ceredigion, and finally a call to the Prior of the Church of Llangwyryfon itself. The prior spoke only Welsh, and he was hard of hearing, but eventually Ianto got to the bottom of his list of questions about certain historical records he'd been researching on behalf of a family who believed themselves to be descendents of St Ursula's most devout followers. He relayed the contents of his phone call to the others over coffee.

'He was actually quite helpful,' Ianto said, 'although he had a long-winded way of getting there. According to parish records, they too agree that St Ursula was indeed returned to Wales, but that it was done in secret by a prince from Gwynedd, who was in love with her, despite her promises to marry the pagan prince.'

'So the bones are at the church?' Jack asked.

'Not the church, but in a secret place where the prince laid her to rest. He said that he wouldn't normally show people just where, but if her true followers wished to worship her and pay their respects, he would personally take us there.'

'You silver tongued little charmer,' Jack grinned.

'All part of the job,' he replied.

 

All three of them were surprised to finally meet their travellers, whom they met late the next evening in a disused field outside of the city, where they could safely land their ship. The three visitors looked remarkably human, and it was only at very close range you could discern any alien qualities to their faces. It shouldn't have surprised them particularly, since St Ursula herself must have looked very human to pass herself off as one of the locals. They were little more than very futuristic evolutions of something that probably was human to begin with. It made sense, since Jack was from three thousand years in the future, and he looked every bit as human as his Welsh companions.

'Just remember,' Jack said, 'these are our guests, and their culture and customs prevail over any other.'

He explained that unlike on Earth, where it was custom for the guests to be accommodating of their hosts, in ninety-nine percent of the galaxy, the reverse was true. Good hosts would be gracious and accepting of whatever customs of rituals their guests required of them.

Jack knew a little of their species and tried to fill Gwen and Ianto in on the basics, which was generally to simply be polite, but to incline your head slightly forward in a bow whenever spoken to. It was considered a sign of respect that you were listening to what they said,  whereas making direct eye contact whilst speaking would suggest that you did not respect their words and wished to interject your own.

 

Jack greeted them in the formal way and offered them to sit in a circle and share tea, which was a well received custom on many worlds. He explained to them the research they'd done, and that they'd located the relics, but that a local prior would guide them to the exact place. They thanked the team for their efforts, and agreed to accompany them to the location, letting their hosts take charge of ensuring their passage to the hallowed ground. They indicated that they would need only a few hours to gather the necessary items from their ship to perform the ceremony required to appropriately gather the relics and to take them home.

Gwen chanced a brief moment of interrupting their flow of conversation to whisper a question in Jack's ear. St Ursula's story had moved her, and further research had indicated that there were in fact very few female saints in Wales, and she felt that her deeds, though alien she might have been, were very human.

'Would it be okay to ask them?' she said. 'I don't want to offend anyone.'

'Of course not,' Jack replied. 'I don't see why not.'

Jack leaned forward slightly, preparing to speak as the Teryns bowed. 'My colleague would like to know if it would be amenable to you that some portion of the relics remained here. Ursu, by action of her deeds, has become quite revered by the free folk of this country, who chose to anoint her in death by decreeing her a Saint, which is the highest honor one can bestow in their religion. It would wound them deeply to not be able to worship her relics, for all the goodness she showed to their ancestors.'

The Teryns paused to consider the request, and replied that they would indeed be amenable to the request, and would be honored if the three of them would attend as representatives of their world at the exhumation.

 

The next morning, with two cars loaded from the Teryn vessel, they began the long, slow drive across west Wales to the tiny town of Llangwyryfon.

The church was on the outskirts of the town, just a small bluestone chapel, no more than a single room, with a small cemetery at the back. Inside was equally humble, with a single set of pews on each side of the long aisle that lead from entrance to altar, whitewashed walls and tall arches overhead in dark cherry coloured timber. There was no sandstone or marble, no statues dedicated to Christ, and no lead light glass panels depicting the Holy texts. It was understated, yet beautiful in its simplicity.

Ianto greeted the old prior and thanked him for allowing them to come and see the great relics of St Ursula. The prior welcomed them, with Ianto as translator, and offered for them to join him in walking to the site.

It was a long walk, but the prior showed no signs of weariness despite his age and hearing, leading them through several fields and up an overgrown trail to a small copse on a low hill.

'Here lies the Maiden of the Shield,' the prior said, looking mournful.

Ianto asked if they could have a few hours alone for prayer and contemplation, and the prior left them, beginning the slow walk back to his chapel.

 

Ianto and Gwen returned to the vehicles and helped the Teryns with whatever they needed to properly prepare, which included their own preparations. Jack had mentioned that they would want to conduct a cleansing ceremony beforehand, and that they should follow whatever was asked of them, remembering that the Teryns had guest rights.

The Teryns returned to the site with them, carrying only a small satchel of items, which they took under the cover of the trees and asked the team to wait. Outside the copse, the sun had just begun to peek through the thick grey clouds, and Jack advised the team that the Teryns were now ready for them to reenter the copse and join them.

When they returned, the three Teryns were wearing nothing at all. It shocked Gwen and Ianto at first, before they remembered that they needed to be respectful. They were instructed to disrobe their own possessions and join them for the cleansing, with each of them attended by the three Teryns in turn.

Two of them wore thick furs on their hands that looked not dissimilar to lambskins, and rubbed fragrant oils all over their bodies, whilst the third chanted quietly. Apart from Jack, who was quite content to stand in the middle of nowhere, stark naked whilst they coated every inch of his skin with their mittened hands, the experience was a little awkward at first. Fortunately they were required to bow their heads and close their eyes for the duration, sparing them any further embarrassment.

Once they had been rubbed down, there was a jolt as cold water was tipped over their heads with a metal ladel. The water had been gathered from a nearby stream and was like ice as it hit their skin. The water was tipped over their bodies, until all of the oils were washed away, a washing away of sin as Jack would later tell them, having listened to the words being chanted. A second round of oils was this time rubbed in by hand, and the scent of them was pungent and pleasant, though none of them could have said what it smelled like. It was unlike any Earth smell, but warm and soothing, relaxing them.

With the oils administered, and the water and goosebumps rubbed away from their bodies, they were given robes to dress in. Robes was a bit of an overstatement. They were a sheer white, soft like silk, but fine as gossamer, and almost completely seethrough, leaving them still very close to naked, but it was what the Teryns now wore, so they too had been garbed the same. Regardless of their revealing qualities, they were still quite beautiful to behold.

The cleansing ceremony completed, the six of them stood in a circle around the copse, alternating between human and Teryns, listening as the Teryns chanted. It was a repetitive prayer, and they were soon following in the chanting as well.

Their leader brought out a small reliquary, or the alien equivalent, a tiny box that was glistening white and brushed silver. He placed it on the ground and stepped back, chanting a new song as the ground around it glowed white. The others joined in with a different chant, which was somehow musically overlapping, yet intertwined. The chanting faded as did the glowing around the box, and then ceased altogether, the exhumation and ceremony complete.  Gwen and Ianto made the sign of the cross out of respect, observing the Catholic half of the rituals.

The Teryns thanked them profusely for their great respect and for attending the ceremony to honor Ursu, informing them that some of her bones would remain here interred for the people she cared for to honor and guard.

'She was most loved by her people and all those she touched,' the Teryns said.

The team were allowed to redress into their normal clothes, as did the Teryns, on advice that the trek back to their vehicles would best go unnoticed if they weren't seen wandering the lush, green countryside in their prayer robes.

With the formalities now completed, Jack chatted amicably with the Teryns, on their wandering journey back to the village and church.

The Teryns in turn, asked that they be taught some of the local Welsh language so that they could take it with them to tell others of the language Ursu had conducted her holy prayers in. Ianto agreed to organised for a couple of volumes of the history of Wales and a Welsh dictionary and guide to grammar, to be included with their items to take home with them, including whatever references they'd found to Ursu, and the tales of her deeds in Wales and across Europe.  

 

Back in Cardiff, they bid their farewells and watched as the Teryn vessel took off for the stars once more, returning home with their heroine's relics, their long pilgrimage a success, and also an educational and cultural adventure.

Gwen watched the tiny ship blink out into nothing more than a speck of light, joining the hundreds of others already dotted across the night sky.

'Not to put a dampener on religion, but do you suppose some of the other saints might have been aliens as well? I mean, some of the miracles they're claimed to have done are pretty, well,' she trailed off.

'Miraculous?' Ianto suggested.

'Who knows,' Jack replied. 'But if they are, then who are we to complain? Everyone needs a little miracle now and again.'

'It was certainly quite different,' Ianto mused.

'And how about those robes?' Jack grinned. 'Think we could wear those around the hub?'

Gwen gave him a playful shove. 'If you ever managed to convince us to wear those, that would be a miracle.'

Comments

[bk_forever]

This was as beautiful as it was fascinating! It Saint Ursula was real, then you really did your research, and if she was made up,. what a wonderful story!

Of course they wound up naked! I hope the weather wa't too cold, but having ice cold water tipped over your hed... *shivers*

[m-findlow.livejournal.com]

Thank you! And yes, she was real. I may have twisted a few little details but it's mainly true.
There are some wonderful stories to be had from Welsh history. I have an ebook about the history of the country written in 1824. It's brilliant because, thought it might be factually not all correct, the way they wrote history back then was much more like a story with lots of irrelevant but very descriptive details. New history books are way too clinical. They could learn something from their forebears.

[bk_forever]

Sounds fascinating!

History these days is dry as dust, sadly, People used to be storytellers, now it's just dates and facts. No wonder kids aren't interested in history these days.

[m-findlow.livejournal.com]

It's true. When I was in school there was a year where you got to pick a whole bunch of elective subjects, one of which was Australian history. I picked it but they made me choose something else because they said they're weren't enough people who picked it to fill even a single class. How pathetic is that? People didn't even want to learn about the history of their own country, short as it is compared to most places. Thanks to the education system, I know more about every other place on the planet than I do the place I've lived all my life!

[bk_forever]

That's crazy, and rather sad =(

In third year we got to choose between Geography and history, I picked geography but I really wish I'd gone for history because we wound up studying urban geography, power stations and stuff, and it was just SO boring.